


You Can't Judge a Man by the Height of His Head

by minou_demimonde



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, interesting facts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:57:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minou_demimonde/pseuds/minou_demimonde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He's perfect for his height."</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can't Judge a Man by the Height of His Head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tkeyla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tkeyla/gifts).



"Danny, what are you doing?"

Steve looked carefully at his partner, who was standing in front of the mirror in the men's bathroom, looking intently at the reflection staring back at him. Danny shrugged.

"Nothing much. Just thinking."

Steve looked more carefully at Danny's face and noted the set of his chin, the way he held his head--back a little, as if to pull away from what he saw. Danny had his hands in his pockets, and his shoulders sagged, just a bit.

"Is this about what Kono said?"

"No. Can't a guy be a bit introspective sometimes? Sheesh." Danny turned and hurried out of the room, leaving no doubt that his self-inspection had indeed been about Kono's throw-away comment.

They'd been eating Kamekona's latest shrimp concoction, which was actually very good. As they reached the end of the pile of shrimp, both Kono and Danny had reached for the last one. When Kono speared it successfully, she grinned at him impishly, and said, "You don't need any more shrimp, Danny. It's not good for you to be munching on possible relations."

Danny had glowered at her, and then laughed along with the rest of the group. Kono apologized later, telling him she had said the first thing that came to mind in order to cover for her selfishness in stealing the last piece. And Danny could tell that she was rather mortified at the joke, and sincerely hoped she hadn't hurt or offended him.

But Steve wondered if it hadn't hit home a bit more than Danny had been willing to show. The truth was that Danny was short by American standards. And while he never acted as if it got to him, Steve knew full well it did. Knew full well it had not been easy growing up the short, blond loud-mouth who had been gifted with a really pretty face as a kid, and a head full of sweet curls to go with it. If Danny had been a girl, there would have been enough issues. But as a boy in a neighborhood full of kids of Italian descent, most of whom had dark eyes and dark hair, and golden skin, Danny had already stood out like the one white rose in the sea of red ones. Make him short and pretty, and you got...well...you got Danny. Who worked his body incredibly hard to get the shoulders Steve loved to nibble on. Who had played baseball in high school and college because it gave him a chance to play a sport where height wasn't a necessity, even though he had longed to play football, like his baby brother did a few years later.

Danny wasn't overly worried about his height, most of the time. It made kissing interesting if Danny didn't want to feel like the girl in a bodice ripper, but they'd found ways to make it so that Steve didn't hurt his neck, and Danny didn't feel too girlish. Stairs were nice for that. And on the couch, or in bed, they were nicely equalized. Same thing with making love. They just made it work.

But there were times when his height did make a difference. Like when he couldn't keep up with the rest of them because his legs just weren't as long. (And didn't he have things to say about that...) Or when he was faced with a jerk at the HPD, who liked to look down on him in so many different ways, one of them being literally.

Or when he had been dating, before Steve had finally taken a huge risk and given them what they both needed for permanent happiness. It hadn't actually been that easy to find women who were close to his height. And even if he did, the truth was that short girls seemed to attract the really tall guys. And while Danny had no issues dating a taller woman, far too many women, it seemed, had issues dating a shorter guy.

But it had been a while since Steve had seen that particular look of resignation on Danny's face. And it was one he really had hoped never to see again. He just didn't know what to do about it.

On their way home from work that evening, Danny ranted on about the Esquire article on the "Shooter", and how badly he had been treated by the military. Steve waited patiently until Danny had run through his rush of words, and then said, "He isn't the actual shooter." Which apparently was enough to put Danny off his train of thought for a moment.

"Huh?"

"I said, he isn't the real shooter."

"Uh. Well. Then who is he?"

"Oh he was there, he just wasn't in the room when it went down. Wasn't anywhere close."

"Oh." Danny apparently didn't know exactly how to respond to this one, he was quiet for a while, then asked, "How much of what he said was accurate?"

"Parts of it. And I suspect that he didn't quite expect Esquire to screw him over so bad, and turn it into a whining session about how badly he was treated. He just wanted to tell his story. Get paid for it maybe."

"But he totally got fucked by the military. I know you are blue to the bone, but even you have to agree that he got the short end of the stick."

"He knew full well that if he didn't stick around for his full 20 he wouldn't get retirement. It's just the way it is. And he didn't have to leave. Even if he wasn't able to continue going on missions with DevGru, there are a lot of non-operational jobs he could have done. He just didn't want to take them because they were a comedown."

"How badly is he injured?"

"Uh. Well.."

"Can you be a bit more specific?"

Steve grimaced. "He may have fibbed a bit on his reasons for leaving the Navy."

Danny turned in his seat to look at Steve. He cocked his head like he did when he was really, really interested. "Oh? Do tell."

Steve sighed. "He wouldn't keep his mouth shut. Kept going around to the bars in Virginia Beach and telling everybody all about it. That isn't something that you can do, if you really care about the safety of your brothers. So they kicked him out of DevGru. But he wasn't kicked out of SpecWar, or even threatened with it. They encouraged him to pick another team, or go to BUD/s and teach or something. He just opted for the easier path."

"Oh." Danny rendered kind of speechless. Steve took a moment to treasure the occasion.

"And the guy who actually did the shooting?"

"Is still at DevGru, doing his job. And he's not likely to talk to anyone, ever. He's just not that kind of a guy. He's a good man. A good SEAL. A good friend."

Danny perked up. "Have I met this friend?"

Steve laughed. "Maybe. Maybe not. I can't keep track of these things."

Danny reached over and bopped him on the head, which turned into a minor slap fight the rest of the way home. Steve was glad to see the last of the shadows slip from Danny's face.

But late that night, as Danny lay in his arms, warm, solid, so very beloved, treasured and cherished, Steve had a thought. "Hey, did I ever tell you I went through BUD/s with the guy who did the actual shooting?"

Danny tilted his head and looked at him. "No. This was never mentioned. But then since I always assumed it may have been you who did the shooting, it wasn't something that would have occurred to me."

Steve laughed. "Sorry to disappoint you. I wasn't even in the room. I did sit on him for you, though."

Danny's screwed his face up into a moue of disgust. "Ew. I didn't need that image in my mind when trying to go to sleep."

"Hey, we were a helo down. Where else was I supposed to sit? On Cairo? He would have bit me. Bin Ladin was behind caring."

Danny bit his lip for a moment in his classic thinking expression. "Yeah, I guess so. It's just gross."

"Well, it wouldn't have been my first choice of seating arrangements, but Bissonette took the last seat. Bastard."

"Ah. Anyway, you were saying about this guy? You went to BUD/s with him?"

"Yep. Cool guy. One of the best SEALs I have ever known. Wouldn't have thought it to look at him that first day at BUD/s, though."

"Why not? Not built like a Greek god like you?"

"Meh. You and your belief in my being built like some statue. But no, actually. He might have weighed in at 130 when he was soaking wet."

Danny got more interested, and pulled his head back a bit to see Steve more clearly. "130? What was he, a beanpole? Some kind of scarecrow?"

"Not quite. I still don't think he goes more than 155, 160 at the most."

"What is this guy, all leg or something?"

Steve got an incredibly impish smile on his face. "No. He's perfect for his height."

Danny's brows drew together. "What do you mean?"

Steve's grin couldn't be contained any further. "He's 5'5."

Steve got to cherish yet another "Danny is speechless" moment. Two in the same day. And he suspected that Danny wasn't going to worry about his height for a while, which was just fine with him. Without further ado, he reached over, turned off the lamp, and kissed Danny on the forehead. "Night, Danno. Love you."

**Author's Note:**

> So the facts in the story are real. Esquire and the "Shooter" both got screwed, but not by the Navy. 
> 
> And the real guy? Bissonette called him the "point-man." And, like Bissonette said, the "point-man" did the shooting. What Bissonette failed to mention is the guy's height. 5'5".
> 
> And he's not the shortest SEAL, either. That honor goes to a guy who was 5'1", and weighed a wopping 113. Just goes to show that it isn't about being 6'5", or built like a Mack truck. It's about never, ever quitting. Something we could all learn from.


End file.
